What We Are
by fortheloveofbuttercups
Summary: Lucy Preston needs a place to stay and doesn't have many options. Somehow, she's at Wyatt's door in the middle of the night. Lucy's POV.
1. Chapter 1

"I don't know why I'm here."

She'd knocked on his door, soft but loud enough for him to hear. He'd been sleeping, as evidenced by his white t-shirt, flannel pants, messy hair and the slight squint of his eyes in the porch light. There was a slight cowlick right on top of his head that her eyes immediately noticed and her fingers itched to smooth down.

"Lucy... what's going on?" His eyes widened as if in realization. "Are you okay? Is it Flynn?"

Always the protector.

"No. I mean, yes, I'm okay. But no, it's not...it's not Flynn."

Her arms immediately crossed, hands balled into fists. What was it? How could she possibly explain it? And to him? She barely knew herself what was going on. She looked down, to the side, at the door frame, at his beautiful bare feet. She squeezed her eyes tight and scoffed at herself.

"I don't know why I'm here."

He scrunched his face up in that adorable way that she absolutely did not find adorable. Or so she told herself on many occasions.

Wyatt closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Lucy, you're not making sense."

"I know. No. You're right." She felt the wall around her heart going back up. After everything they'd been through, after everything he'd been through, how could she ask him this? "I think, maybe I'll just go back home."

His hand was on her arm. She knew too well how strong and soft those hands of his could be.

"Don't go." She glanced from his hand to his eyes. "Just...come in. Talk. Let's talk."

* * *

He'd offered a beer. She asked for water. Clear thoughts were the order of the evening...errr middle of the night...and she was determined to stay as clear headed as possible.

They'd long ago dispensed with the pleasantries. Small talk wasn't his cup of tea and she was, quite simply, terrible at it.

Both were also equally adept at not being the first to say anything.

She'd already drank most of her water, even though she was trying her best to ration it. Her left ring finger tapped against the side of the glass, the hefty engagement ring making quite the racket as silver met glass.

He huffed and grabbed her hand, taking her slightly by surprise.

"Stop, please."

"Sorry."

Why should she be nervous? It's Wyatt. She's known him for forever. Or, you know, like six months. But they've traveled through time together over a dozen times and that's kind of like forever when you add it all up.

"Lucy, what's going on?" She kept her head down but he gently cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. "Talk to me."

Just say it. Just say it and get it over with and out in the open. Like a band-aid.

Deep breath.

It's just Wyatt. He'll help. He'll understand. He's protective and caring and trustworthy.

It's just Wyatt.

Deep, deep breath.

"I need a place to stay."

"What?"

It was now or never.

"Mom and I had a fight. She kicked me out. But only after I told her I'm breaking up with Noah. She really likes that guy. I can't see it. Anyway. And I'd ask Rufus, but, Jiya's there, so they don't need a third wheel. So, um, maybe your couch? Or I can find my air mattress. I used to have one. Unless it got erased, too. I'm not sure how that works. Or I'm totally cool to sleep on the floor, too. I've also slept in a bathtub before. Just once. Back in college. Though all the alcohol probably made for a better night's sleep in that position than it would now. You know, sober. Not that I want to get drunk with you. Not with you. Just here. Not here. In your house. I mean anywhere with you. Not that I don't want to drink with you. I like to drink. And I like you. No, not that I like you, I mean, you're a great person and I like you, not that I like you. I do. But..." Deep breath. "Maybe I'll just sleep in my car."

Band-aid off. Wound open. Heart exposed.

Did she say she liked him? He'd probably have something snarky to say about that later.

Lucy stood and grabbed her keys off the coffee table.

"Lucy."

She wanted to take a few steps and leave. Walk out and start over, in so many ways. But she couldn't. Her feet betrayed her, just like the blush that was creeping across her face and neck.

"I'm sorry." It came out quieter than she meant. She wasn't even sure he heard it.

She never wanted to cry in front of him. But the tears betrayed her, too.

She was going to need to have a serious conversation with herself about all of these emotional betrayals.

He stood and wrapped an arm around her. She fell into him gently, easily. He was warm and clean and smelled like dryer sheets and heaven.

She didn't know she was crying that hard until she was fisting his shirt and he was shushing her. He rubbed soft circles on her back. Her breathing slowed and she inhaled deeply.

Her stomach rumbled. He also smelled like spaghetti. (She forgot to eat dinner.)

He lowered his lips to her ear and, even though they were alone, spoke only for her to hear.

"You can stay."

She laughed softly.

"Really? After all that?"

He smirked.

"On one condition." She glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. "Let's get you some food."

She smiled and fell into him a little more.

It'd take her a little longer to realize that he also smelled like home.


	2. Chapter 2

Before she even opened her eyes, she stretched and smiled. It'd been weeks since she felt this relaxed, this well-rested. She breathed in deeply and exhaled just as much. That's when realization hit her.

She wasn't at home.

Slowly, one eye opened, then the other.

This was not his couch, which is where she should've been.

* * *

After a pretty large helping of his "world famous" spaghetti (the Texas hot sauce was the key), they'd spent a few of the wee morning hours talking, reminiscing, and simply being in each other's company. They discussed life and history the way it used to be, you know, before time machines and Flynn and chaos. Back in the true "good ol' days" as Wyatt so eloquently put it.

They'd laughed about how many times Lucy fell off or into things. (Like horses and windows and stairs.) They tried to count how many historical figures they'd actually met (30? 40?) but Wyatt gave up after a while. He'd rather forget most of them. She didn't fail to notice how he dipped his head and went quiet when Lucy mentioned how many men she'd "dated through history."

Of course, they skirted around that most infamous mission. The one that changed it all.

Bonnie and Clyde.

She'd noticed a change in him ever since. While she'd never admit it, at least out loud, it had changed her, too.

How was she ever supposed to look at him the same? It was like the best chef in the world giving you a sample of their most delectable, sensuous, mouth-watering, tantalizing, feel-it-from-the-top-of-your-head-to-the-tips-of-your-toes amazing dessert and then saying, "Oh, sorry. You wanted more? Too bad. Samples only."

It was heartbreaking. She knew as long as he was still grieving his late wife he'd never be an option for her. And that was okay. She couldn't imagine what he'd been through and, frankly, hoped she never did.

They had an unspoken understanding. They'd reiterated in those wee morning hour discussions that if he could get Jessica back, he would. And she'd get her sister back. And life would go back to normal. Whatever that was.

But there was a part of her, if even a small part, that wished things were different. A part that wished they'd met under different circumstances. A part that hoped, maybe, if there was a world without Rittenhouse, they could've met some other way and fallen in love. No strings attached. No fiancés or deceased wives. Just the two of them. Single and willing.

But it wasn't that simple. That wasn't their life.

* * *

So, therefore, her confusion was completely understandable when she woke up in his bed.

She turned her head and blinked in the sun shining through his bedroom windows. He was on his side, facing her, still fast asleep.

Many years later, she'd say it was when he straightened her tie before going into a Nazi den or when he held her hand after she witnessed Lincoln's assassination, or how he always helped her in and out of the Lifeboat. Or, perhaps, all those times he buckled her safely in on missions.

However, she'd be the only one who knew it was as she watched him sleep peacefully beside her in the morning light.

That's when she knew she was in love with him.

How long she lay there watching him, she wasn't sure, but it was long enough to feel something she hadn't before. What was that? It was a strange sensation, this being drawn to someone else. It started in the pit of her stomach and she could've sworn she felt a pang in her heart. There was a lump in her throat and she didn't know why. (Oh, but of course, she did. She'd just rather not admit it…yet.)

Her emotions were still a bit all over the place and she wasn't sure if she should cry or laugh or snuggle up beside him. It was a feeling of realizing that, no matter what happened, you just wanted the other person to be happy. If Lucy Preston's sole purpose in life was to make Wyatt Logan happy, she'd do it.

He must've known he was being watched (Delta Force, you know), because he began to stir. He breathed deeply and slowly opened his eyes. He paused for a moment and just looked at her, that half smile creeping up.

And for a moment, it was just them. No chaos or Flynn or time machines. No missions. No history.

Could he hear her heart pounding as much as she was sure it was?

"Hi."

She was surprised even that came out. Usually, it took at least two cups of coffee before she'd attempt talking in the morning.

"Hey."

And she melted a little more.

What, was she 13? A guy says "hey" in a silky-smooth, gorgeously sleep-filled voice and you melt?

Yes, yes she did.

A shiver ran through her and he noticed. He pulled the blanket further up around them.

She smiled appreciatively and sighed a little more into the pillow. The warm, soft pillow that smelled like him.

"How did I end up here? I could've sworn I fell asleep on the couch."

She knew she did. She remembered talking to him and trying to stay awake. But the spaghetti was so good and she was warm, comfortable, and with him, which meant she felt safe. It wasn't difficult to see that sleep would be inevitable, especially with the lives they led. She was always exhausted.

He blushed and diverted his eyes, focusing on fluffing his pillow and making himself more comfortable.

"Oh, you just looked like you'd be cold and uncomfortable on the couch, you know, out there. So, I brought you in here."

Her face was burning, she just knew it.

"You – you carried me in here?"

Part of her was extremely embarrassed that he picked her up and carried her. But the majority wished she had been awake when Wyatt Logan carried her into his bedroom.

He glanced around, looking anywhere, everywhere. He ran his hand across his face and huffed slightly, placing one hand under and the other over his pillow.

"Yeah. I couldn't leave you out there alone. Not after…"

Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"After?"

He took a small breath before looking in her eyes, speaking softly but determined.

"I've already lost you twice. There won't be a third time."

There it was again. That pang in her chest. There was also a pretty acute flutter in her stomach.

She couldn't help it. It was happening before she knew it.

Her hand reached out and cupped his face, her fingers slowly sweeping away a few strands of his beautiful hair.

Her voice was shaky, but confident. Tears stung her eyes.

"Wyatt. You've never lost me."

He closed his eyes, almost reverently.

"Lucy, if something were to happen to you..."

Her hand was soft but firm against his cheek. She spoke only for him.

"Wyatt Logan. I'm here. I'm right here."

He placed his hand over hers.

"Lucy –"

It was natural, automatic. Her body instinctually moved closer to him, so close they were practically nose-to-nose.

She lowered her voice to barely a whisper.

"I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere."

He smiled and exhaled. It was a breath, he would later tell her, he never realized he'd been holding.

His forehead fell softly against hers.

It was that moment, she'd learn years later, when he fell in love with her.


	3. Chapter 3

The warm water cascaded over her, washing away any remaining stress. Not that there was much left, as waking next to him was enough to put her at ease for a while. It also helped knowing he couldn't bear to have her out of his sight all night.

What was happening? They had danced around feelings and talking about them ever since Arkansas. He was fighting to get his late wife back one minute, and a couple of missions later, he was terrified to let Lucy out of his sight.

They had discussed his PTSD that night. Not in depth, but it did come up. She never pushed him, but let the conversation develop, allowing him to divulge as much as he wanted. She understood it. After all, she'd been through it, even if it wasn't to the same degree as a soldier. But she certainly had her own issues after the car accident and near drowning.

She squirted more shampoo – his shampoo, as she'd forgotten hers- in her hand and worked it into a thick lather through her hair. (She was secretly giddy to know she'd smell like him for the rest of the day.) She'd grabbed a change of clothes and a few necessities in the aftermath of the argument with her mom. But, obviously, there were a few things she forgot, but he was happy to lend an item or two.

However, it still felt strange being naked in his bathroom.

* * *

They'd fallen back asleep after she made her promise to him. It was the best sleep she'd ever had. No nightmares of being trapped underwater, or abducted by Flynn, or losing Amy, or, the worst one lately, calling out for Wyatt but him never finding her.

So, when she woke mid-morning wrapped securely in his arms, it was the safest she'd ever felt in her life.

She could feel him stir and she turned in his arms. He peeked at her through one eye and smiled.

"Guess we fell back asleep."

"Guess so."

His stomach growled. He laughed and put a hand on his midsection.

"Wow. That was loud. Sorry."

She giggled.

"I think we should get you some food."

He sat up in bed, running a hand through his hair and bringing his knee up to rest his elbow as he turned to look at her.

"Yeah. Want to go get some breakfast? There's a little diner down the street. Really good comfort food."

She couldn't suppress the smile across her face. And, frankly, she didn't want to.

"Sure. But uh – would it be possible for me to take a shower first?"

* * *

She felt all giggly and school-girly when she really thought about where she was at that moment.

She was naked in Wyatt's bathroom.

Her thoughts continued to drift as she stuck her face in the cascading water.

What a change from yesterday when she felt she was at the end of her rope. The fight with her mother was probably long overdue. Though, she'd later admit it did get a bit out of hand, more than likely due to the frustration of not being able to tell her mom about her job, fake fiancés, and time machines.

Her impending break-up with a fiancé (though, let's be real - he was never actually HER fiancé) weighed heavily on her mind. Wyatt was right to call her out on letting Noah go. But there was so much more to it. It's something she'd thought a lot about lately. It's probably why she dreamed about Amy as much as she did or had nightmares about getting lost and Wyatt not finding her.

Because at the end of the day, she knew there was someone there who loved her, even if she didn't reciprocate. It was petty and selfish and stupid, she knew, but in a strange way, it was also a comfort. However, it was becoming a serious problem.

If she were really honest with herself, she knew Noah was her backup plan. And that was insane. (Because in reality, he could be erased after any mission just as easily as he appeared.) But it was also the truth. It's why she still wore the ring. It was a reminder that if Wyatt succeeded in getting his late wife back, she had another plan. She always had someone who was waiting for her, even if she wasn't waiting for him.

Not that she necessarily _needed_ anyone. She could and did take care of herself.

But wanting was an entirely different thing.

And sometimes, just sometimes, she wanted to not feel alone.

* * *

When she'd left her mom's house the night before, slamming the door like a teenager, she got in the car and drove. No particular direction in mind, though she briefly thought about being totally irresponsible and driving up to Canada.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there were still a few things, or people, that kept her in the city.

She drove down to the pier for a bit and sat on a bench, eating a chocolate crepe from a nearby café. It's where her mom used to take them when she and Amy were little. They'd listen to the seals bark, watch the mesmerizing waves break against the rocky shore, and eat crepes. Her mom would tell them the history of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge and the Great Fire of 1906. Those were her bedtime stories. None of that had changed. Yet.

Until it did, that pier would be her spot. Her totem.

She'd ended up at Wyatt's after driving around the city for a couple of hours. She couldn't go home and most certainly couldn't go to Noah's.

She knew where she would end up that night, though she tried to put it off as long as possible. Because she knew she'd feel this way. And the last thing she needed was to feel hopeful in a life that, lately, was often very hopeless.

* * *

Shaking her head and sighing, she turned off the water and reached for a towel. Thoughts still plagued her about yesterday (she knew she'd have to face her mom sometime), but, for today, she could relish in knowing she woke up in Wyatt's arms and he, in some way, cared enough to let her stay. If they were never anything else, she at least knew they were friends.

And that was okay. (Right?)

She towel dried her hair and reached for her bag of clothes, which wasn't there. Panic immediately set in and she felt flush all over.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

It was in the living room. By the couch. Where she left it last night.

Maybe, if he was still in the bedroom, she could sneak out and grab it.

She wrapped the towel tightly around her, checking in the mirror to make sure all the proper places were covered. She opened the door and tiptoed out into the hall and around the corner to the living room. Her wet hair bounced against her shoulders as she tried to be as quiet as possible. But as soon as she turned the corner, she froze.

"Um, what's going on?"

Wyatt held the front door open to a surprised Rufus and Jiya.

Wyatt turned to look at her. The blush couldn't spread fast enough across his face, down his neck, and, he'd later tell her, to other unmentionable areas.

Rufus was in pure shock: mouth open, eyes wide.

Jiya simply grinned and nudged him.

"Told you."


	4. Chapter 4

Lucy sat on the edge of his bed, staring at her sneakers on the floor.

They mocked her.

She was dressed except for them and as soon as she laced them up, she'd have to leave his bedroom. And as soon as she left the bedroom, she'd have to walk out to the living room where they were waiting. It'd be like a walk of shame, except not, because nothing happened.

It was merely a walk of embarrassment.

How lame was that? Still in your clothes from the day before, but with none of the fun, sexy times of a walk of shame.

She gripped the edge of the bed, closed her eyes and sighed.

Just put on the shoes. Just do it.

(This probably wasn't what Nike had in mind.)

Before she could move, the door opened. Wyatt nervously peeked in.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yep. Just..." she reached for her shoes, "putting my shoes on. Then I'm good to go."

* * *

A few years later, Rufus would tell the story of how they happened upon what Jiya had suspected for a while. Both Lucy and Wyatt would deny it happened that early on, but their friends remained skeptical.

Apparently, after Lucy and Wyatt had fallen back asleep in the early morning light, Rufus had texted them both to see if they wanted to grab some breakfast and hang out for a bit. When neither Lucy nor Wyatt had answered the many texts, phone calls, or even emails, Rufus called Jiya and they agreed to make sure their friends were okay.

Jiya insisted everything was probably fine.

"Maybe their phones died."

"Both of them? At the same time?"

He was sure Rittenhouse had done something to them and was adamant they investigate. He and Jiya were both curious as they pulled up to Wyatt's apartment and saw Lucy's car in the parking lot. Rufus immediately feared the worst. Jiya was a bit more optimistic. She'd later have good reason to rub it in Rufus's face.

Lucy laughed every time he told that story.

* * *

It was later in the day when Lucy and Wyatt stood awkwardly with Rufus and Jiya outside a diner, the sun setting in the distance behind them. Jiya and Rufus held hands like it was something they'd always done, a natural outward affirmation of inward affection. It did not escape Lucy's notice.

She quickly glanced down at Wyatt's hand. Her fingers involuntarily twitched. He caught her looking and couldn't help but steal a glance at her hand, too. They gave a polite smile to each other, knowing they'd been caught but too nervous to do anything else.

Rufus interrupted their thoughts.

"So, this was great and not awkward at all." Jiya elbowed him. "What? I mean, it's a little weird, right? I mean, you two are...are...?"

Wyatt jumped in.

"You got something to say, Rufus?"

Rufus shrugged and smirked.

"I mean, come on, I got eyes, you sly dog."

Jiya cocked her head in agreement but looked slightly more compassionate when she saw Lucy cross her arms and sigh.

Wyatt rolled his eyes and huffed.

"We aren't…not anything."

Lucy's eyebrows shot up. Well, that was confusing, grammatically incorrect, and slightly…hurtful?

Rufus scoffed and pointed an accusing finger at Wyatt.

"That's a double negative, my friend. And you know what they say about those."

They weren't touching but she felt him tense beside her.

Defensive Wyatt was about to bust through.

He was slightly exasperated. And waving his arms around more than usual as he spoke.

"We're a team. I'm Wyatt, she's Lucy, you're Rufus."

Lucy tried to hide the hurt. It was unintentional, she was sure, but she couldn't help the sudden feeling of regret, or, at the very least, the feeling she did something wrong. It was a crazy feeling, she knew, but also one she couldn't help.

So much for hope for the hopeless.

She gave a half-hearted smile to Rufus and Jiya before looking down.

Rufus furrowed his brow.

"Uh, yeah, okay. Lucy?"

She looked up, gave them a contrite smile, and shrugged a shoulder.

What could she possibly say?

"We're a team."

And they were. But, maybe not in the way she'd hoped.

At least, not yet.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: This was a pretty emotional chapter to write. There will be a few more chapters to this story and I'm really excited about where it's going and hope you continue to enjoy! Thank you again for taking the time to read and review. I'm very grateful for all of the kind words!_

* * *

The ride back to his apartment was quiet. She was lost in thought, watching the trees and houses and streetlights blur out the window. When they got to his place, the mood had drastically changed from the morning.

They hadn't gotten a call from work in a couple of days and she felt the need to take advantage and get away, if even for a few hours.

"I think...maybe...I'll go back home. Tonight." He looked up at her for the first time since they got back. "I need a better change of clothes and I left my phone charger there."

He seemed...disappointed?

"Are you coming back?"

She wanted to answer. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times.

In reality, she wanted to rush to his side and hug him. Hug him and smell him and feel safe again. She wasn't sure what words would possibly help convey what she felt, but she was pretty certain a really good hug might do the trick.

But that comment. That one, tiny, off-handed remark changed things. If they couldn't be honest with Rufus, then who could they be honest with? She thought they'd opened up with each other quite a bit, especially last night and early that morning. They'd learned to trust one other over the last few months. There were always issues both of them kept close to the vest, topics each would rather not discuss with anyone. But this was different though.

Something changed for him between when she left the bedroom to shower and when she walked in his living room, a flimsy towel all that separated her from him (and Rufus and Jiya).

It was all about to betray her again. Stupid, stupid emotions.

One tear escaped but she quickly wiped it away, hopefully, before he noticed.

She crossed her arms. Her voice was a whisper.

"I don't know."

She already felt horrible. But ever since the convo with Rufus, she felt...hopeless.

And it was a shame, because this morning had been the exact opposite.

But, if she were honest with herself (apparently, something she avoided as of late), she knew this must be tearing him apart, too.

They felt something for each other. They both knew that. But life was never so easy. They couldn't just say it.

Lucy Preston and Wyatt Logan were the precise definition of "it's complicated."

He gave a slight nod. He tried to seem indifferent, but she knew otherwise.

Other people may not have been able to see it, but she knew he wore his emotions on his sleeve.

"Well, I didn't know if I should leave the door unlocked or not."

There was that thing in her chest again. The little flutter in her stomach, too.

"I can always knock."

She smiled softly.

He smirked.

"Yeah. You're good at that."

She picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

"Okay. Well…thanks for…" Talking? A place to stay? Reaffirming her faith in good people? Spaghetti? A night in your bed? "…Everything."

She couldn't look him in the eye. It was too dangerous. If she kept her head down and walked straight out, she'd be fine. Just make it to the car and drive off.

Though, truth be told, she wasn't sure where she would go. But being with him, and not saying what needed to be said, was going to kill her.

And what could she say? What did she have any _right_ to say? She really couldn't assume that he felt the same about her, not when he still seemed to fight so passionately for his late wife. And why shouldn't he fight for Jessica?

She'd do the same if the tables were turned.

"Lucy."

Don't do it, don't look at him.

He walked closer to where she stood by the door. Her hand kept a tight grip on the doorknob, grounding her. Her eyes looked down, at the door frame, anywhere, everywhere but at him.

"Wyatt, I have to go."

He seemed to be at war with himself. She completely understood because she felt the same.

She opened the door, but he quickly put his hand on it, pushing it closed. She jumped slightly and finally looked at him.

His voice was soft but pleading.

"Please stay."

Her eyes closed and she shook her head.

"Wyatt."

She couldn't do this now.

He leaned closer to her.

"Just stay. It's night. Stay and we'll talk. I'll make more food for you."

He tried to smile, but it couldn't reach his eyes. His beautiful, earnest blue eyes. Her heart was breaking. He was trying. Trying to make nice. Trying to get her to stay.

But it wasn't enough.

"Wyatt...I need…" What? A hug? An apology? Him? "...clothes. And my phone will die soon if I don't get my charger. And..."

"And and and. Lucy, just stop making excuses."

He took a step back, shaking his head in frustration.

Was he serious? Oh, this guy. He knew the buttons to push. And he was dangerously close to pushing the wrong ones.

"I'm - I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

She scoffed heartily at that. She dropped her bag, crossed her arms and took her best defensive stance.

Oh, the gloves were coming off now.

"You want to talk about excuses? Who had the perfect opportunity today to tell Rufus what we are?"

His gorgeous eyes widened at that.

"What we are? What exactly are we, Lucy?"

Ah, the million dollar question.

She threw her arms in the air.

"I don't know!"

"Well, neither do I!"

"Well, okay!"

"Fine!" He began to walk away but stopped short, halfway turned to her, a hand on his hip, the other on his forehead. "Just - don't go. I can't protect you if you're not here."

"I don't need twenty-four hour protection."

"That's not what I meant."

A pause. They stared at one another.

She could barely get the words out.

"So what did you mean?"

That was a loaded question.

He knew what she was asking. She knew he knew. (But it would be a-ways down the road before he would admit it.)

He closed his eyes and sat on the couch, his head in his hands.

Weariness laced his words.

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

She glanced at the door. She could still leave. Could grab her bag, take off, and drive. Canada was still an option. Or, at least, maybe she could go sit on a pier and eat crepes.

Instead, she sighed and walked to the couch, sitting beside him.

She knew what had to be said. It was that little nagging thought that always stayed in the back of her mind. It was what she never wanted to say, but knew she had to if she ever hoped for a sliver of a chance. It was also something he needed to hear. It was the spark that would give him some hope, too, regardless of the decision he would ultimately have to make.

Deep breath.

"Someone once told me to figure out what you're fighting for and you'll be okay. But…I don't think you know what you want. So, how could you possibly know what to fight for?"

He kept his head down but gave a half-smile at that. She knew him better than he thought.

She was trying to keep it together but one or two tears were inevitable.

"Lucy, I'm sorry."

She smiled. Briefly, but she smiled.

Those words were like a medicine, washing over her heart and comforting her soul.

She released a breath.

"I know. Me too."

"So, then, what are we? What is...this?"

He waved his hand between them.

Her chin trembled.

"I don't know." A pause. "But- you're all I've got." He looked up suddenly, surprised. She'd never been more sincere with him. She returned his half-smile and shrugged. "Without you- I have no one. I am…completely alone."

Heartbreak and shock marred his features.

He furrowed his brow.

"But- your mom -"

"-Not the same. I mean, she is but...she's not. That woman, she's my mother but she's not my mom. Not the one I remember anyway. My mom had been sick for so long that we didn't spend much time together over the past few years. We'd drifted apart. I was there for her but not like Amy. And ever since Amy disappeared and mom isn't sick, it's like I'm living my own weird version of an alternate reality."

He conceded.

"Well, you are."

"Well, it sucks." She paused to wipe a tear before it escaped. "How could we ever begin to plan our lives when, in an instant, it could all be taken away? Erased in a flash and we're the only ones on the planet who truly suffer the consequences."

He straightened and pulled her to him, wrapping an arm around her. She fell against his side and her head, ever so naturally, rested on his shoulder.

And then it happened. Her fingers didn't even have a chance to twitch this time.

He took her hand in his.

She'd noticed a few things the other times he'd held her hand. It was strong and big and, in a way, seemed like a soldier. Tough and rough for the job, but soft and protective for her.

It also helped that their hands fit perfectly together.

He spoke softly, barely above a whisper.

"Please stay?"

It wasn't a demand this time.

No, it was more like a prayer.

She couldn't vocalize a response. If she did, she'd break. And that couldn't happen again, not two nights in a row.

Her hand squeezed his in reply and his thumb dragged lightly back and forth across her fingers.

He turned and, ever so gently, kissed the top of her head.

The sensation began at the base of her neck and radiated throughout her body.

Wyatt Logan literally sent shivers down her spine. (In the absolute best way.)

She sighed and snuggled into him a little more.

They sat there in silence for a while, his arm around her as she fit tightly against him, holding hands and trying to visualize a future that was ever-changing.

"So, what now?"

There was an excruciatingly long pause. So long, in fact, she was afraid he didn't hear her.

Then, faintly, "We make it up as we go."

She took a deep breath.

He still smelled like heaven.

Jiya and Rufus weren't too far off on their estimation of when they got together, but Lucy and Wyatt would never admit it.

After all, so much can happen in one day.


	6. Chapter 6

She could honestly get used to this. His bed was warm and cozy and smelled like him. It had just the right amount of softness to firmness ratio.

It also helped that he was next to her.

Her arms fell to her side and she ran her palms against the smooth, creamy sheets. The sun wasn't shining like the previous morning, but it was still light enough that she could see his gorgeous face as he slept. He was on his back, arm thrown over his head.

She almost liked him best like this. Peaceful, relaxed, handsome.

Well, he was _always_ handsome.

It wasn't even an argument the night before. No fuss about who would sleep where. No discussion of bathtubs or floors or erased (or not?) air mattresses. Not even a hint that one of them would sleep on the couch.

Later, they could say that the first time they slept in a bed together, it was a matter of life or death. The second time was for her own protection (or so he claimed).

But this time? This time, there was no life or death situation. No need to protect anyone.

It was simply two people who had accepted that they were alone together in this world.

And, though it'd take a while for both to admit it, they'd rather be together than not.

* * *

They'd stayed up quite late talking about time travel and fake fiancés and dating.

He'd noticed her ring. After all, he couldn't help but notice it the night before when she kept banging it against her glass of water. But as he held her hand on the couch, he turned the ring over on her finger.

"It's a nice rock. The guy's got good taste."

She lightly chuckled.

"Really? I mean, I guess, but it's not really…me? I don't know. It's kind of big."

He moved his arm from around her shoulder and took her hand, holding and twirling the ring more on her finger while he spoke.

"Maybe this version of you liked it. You liked him, after all."

That was true. And the version of her sitting there tried to like him. Noah was handsome, with a good job. An all-around good guy. Apparently, he also had money to burn on large engagement rings.

But, it never felt exactly…right. She just couldn't love Noah. And it wasn't for lack of trying. No, her heart and head belonged to someone else.

But she wouldn't be completely someone else's for a little while longer.

(That wasn't for lack of trying either.)

"Maybe…"

"So, why wear it?"

"What do you mean?

She knew what he was asking. But she was just as good as he was at deflecting.

"Why wear something for someone if they mean nothing to you?"

He was trying to be casual, indifferent. But it was more genuine than he realized.

His thumb lightly grazed her fingers. Her breath hitched in her throat.

Their eyes met and, for a split second, she thought it could happen again. His eyes briefly looked to her lips and she couldn't help herself. The words just tumbled out.

"Maybe it's just a reminder that someone…out there…loves me."

And she immediately regretted it.

All she could do was smile half-heartedly and shrug a shoulder.

The tears that came to her eyes, however, were completely involuntary.

Wyatt seemed confused and slightly hurt.

"But – do _you_ love _him_?"

It was a fair question. It really was. And she'd answered it for him before.

"No…I mean, I don't really _know_ him. I've tried. He and I – we've…tried. But, no. I don't love him."

It was a simple question. It should've been an even simpler answer.

She wanted to add something else, needed to say something more. There was something more heartfelt to say, but it just wouldn't come out. It wasn't quite to the tip of her tongue yet, but it was working its way there.

(It'd be a little while longer before she was able to say it.)

He acknowledged with a small nod.

"So, you looking to date anyone else then?"

He smirked.

Oh, how she wished she could say the first thing that came to her mind.

 _Maybe…depends who's asking?_

She laughed slightly, scoffed at herself, and shook her head.

"Ugh, let's not even discuss dating. What's the point? I go out with someone, we go on a mission, come back and * poof * they've been erased from existence."

He smiled and covered his face with his hand, a feeble attempt to suppress the slight laughter.

"Yeah. Wow. One of the many pitfalls of dating when you're a time traveler."

She snickered.

"Yeah. So, no, I'm not dating anyone else."

Her breath caught as soon as she said it.

 _Anyone else_.

Their eyes met briefly before she looked away, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than she wanted.

It probably should've sounded like she meant she wouldn't date anyone. Anyone at all. But the way it came out, and the way he'd interpreted it, or so he'd tell her later, was that she wasn't dating anyone _else except…_ well, they both knew.

And a little ways down the road, he'd tell her he also interpreted this as a sign she was the first to fall, the first to commit.

She'd deny it (out loud) but he knew.

So did she.

"You know, anyone outside the three of us could be erased. Rufus, you, me. We're all we have."

The truth of that thought unsettled her more than she let on. Rufus and Wyatt had become her family.

She placed her hand on his arm and gave him a small smile.

She also took a deep breath, one she didn't realize she needed.

Her head again found his shoulder as a comfortable silence settled between them. Her hand stayed on his arm and his fingers continued to play with her ring. Both were incredibly lost in thought, but content enough to quietly sit next to each other for however long it was needed.

She tried to stifle a yawn, but it was no use.

"Sleep?"

She nodded.

"Sleep."

She was up off the couch first, intent on going to the bathroom when a thought struck her. She turned and asked, hesitantly.

"When did you stop wearing your ring?"

It wasn't meant to hurt him and she hoped it didn't. She wasn't in the same position as Wyatt, but it was a thought that lingered in her mind since the moment she discovered his wife was dead.

He couldn't answer right away. He kept his head down, his right index finger immediately, subconsciously, touching his bare left ring finger.

His voice was soft, wistful.

"When it stopped hurting to look at it every day." She was pretty sure her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed hard. "I mean," he continued, finally looking at her, "it still hurts, but, it gets easier, I suppose. That's what they say anyway."

* * *

It wasn't as light outside that morning because of the rain. It pelted the window, lightly at first, then more steadily the longer she laid there.

Between the rhythm of the rain and Wyatt's light, but gentle breathing, she could've stayed there all day.

His head rotated towards her. He was still asleep, but he turned and let out a deep breath. Like the morning before, everything stopped for her. A slight chill ran through her and she knew.

Oh, how she knew.

She'd fall in love with him every morning if this is how mornings would be.

It was happening before she knew it. Her emotions and heart were taking control.

(Though, she'd never admit she let them.)

She leaned over and, ever so lightly, placed a small kiss on his forehead. It wasn't so much the kiss that took her by surprise, but the fact that she lingered, her lips hovering above his skin. She inhaled, then let it out as she let her forehead fall against his.

Suddenly, his hand moved up her side, settling on her back and holding her to him. He didn't say a word, keeping his eyes closed, but pulled her closer to him.

Her heart pounded. Could he hear it? Did he notice her sweaty palms? Did he feel her shaky breaths against his skin?

"Lucy…"

She froze.

Never had she heard her name said so quietly, sincerely.

Was she trembling? She was certain she was.

Their foreheads and noses lightly touched. Their lips so close, they'd kiss if she only moved a hair's breadth towards him.

And she'd dreamt about kissing him again since that mission to Arkansas.

Her hand slid up his arm and to his neck.

It was happening. The teenage Lucy inside her was freaking out because she was about to kiss a gorgeous man. In his bed. As the rain fell gently outside.

Heck, the _adult_ Lucy was freaking out.

Lucy Preston was about to be the lead in her own romance novel.

(Not that she read those things...)

She felt his sweet, warm breath on her lips.

It was now or never.

Her lips lightly grazed his. He responded and slowly, gently, moved his lips against hers.

This wasn't like the first one. That began all for show, but ended all for need. Pent up tension, they'd each think to themselves, but never admit out loud.

No, this kiss… This kiss was slow, sensual. It wasn't driven by need so much as curiosity and desire and acceptance.

Wyatt pulled her closer. She had already surrendered all thought and let her body take over. Apparently, he had, too.

Because when her phone dinged, they didn't hear it.

But when both phones dinged, multiple times, their eyes slowly popped open, mid-kiss.

Neither could say a word. The breathlessness took care of that.

She was unsure of his true intentions, feelings, desires.

After all, he was a guy and it was morning.

But then, he pulled back and looked at her, crinkling his eyes and showing that beautiful half-smile.

"I could get used to this."

She smirked.

"You mean…?"

She gestured to her body and then his, the realization dawning on him.

He shook his head.

"No. Waking up with you."

And her heart skipped a few more beats.

Their phones dinged for a sixth time and they shared a similar resigned look.

The bed was soft. Life in this little apartment was peaceful, blissful even. But, as it was, they actually had to get up and save the world, one historical time traveling moment at a time.

 _Man, we lead weird lives._

And, as they slowly rolled away from each other, both prepared to follow the duties of the job, she realized something else.

She was already used to waking up with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Lucy sat on the floor of the changing room, leaning against the long mirror, as her clothes from another bygone era hung neatly on the back of the door. They'd changed history again, though, hopefully not too much. They'd barely stopped Flynn this time, but not before he and his goons handed out a few injuries here and there.

A soft knock at the door brought her thoughts back to the present.

"Lucy?"

He was concerned about her. She knew this. Could hear it in his voice and felt it in the way he'd protected her on this mission.

Or tried to protect her.

She'd wanted to ask him if this was going to be an issue or, worse, a problem. The last thing they needed was an unnecessary distraction during a mission. "Distraction" here meaning they're more focused on each other rather than the job.

But they'd never had the conversation. Therefore, she should've known something would happen.

It wasn't as bad as the time Wyatt got shot, or whenever there was a fight, or even the time Flynn bruised her pretty badly while kidnapping her.

In the grand scheme of things, having a banged up shoulder from shoving Wyatt out of the path of a moving car in the 1940s was a tiny, minor thing. It could've been so much worse.

She could've been killed, as Wyatt so forcefully yelled at her in the aftermath. Rufus also yelled a few things her way. But she knew they were both terrified, especially when she screamed out in pain. Luckily, her shoulder wasn't dislocated, but a nice bruise was already forming. The doctor gave her some pain meds before she even had a chance to change clothes.

Those meds had definitely kicked in as she watched the doorknob turn through her heavy eyelids. Her words were a little more slurred than usual.

"Wyatt, before you say anything –"

He walked closer to where she sat, looming over her.

"Lucy –"

She patted the floor next to her.

"Don't loom. Sit."

He rolled his eyes and huffed before obediently sitting on the cold, thin carpet, matching her position and leaning against the mirror.

Her head was heavy and tired and the meds were only adding to the swirling and spinning. But she had things to say to him. Things that couldn't wait until it was just the two of them in a tiny apartment, sharing a couch, a bathroom, a bed.

No, she needed witnesses.

They'd been sitting for a while when he nudged her knee with his.

"How's the shoulder?"

She shrugged, or tried to at least, then realized that was an involuntary response she'd have to do without for the foreseeable future. Pain shot through her and she winced.

"Ah, ow! Oh, wow, that hurts!" She put up a hand when he turned to attempt to offer help. "But I'm fine! I'm fine!"

He threw her a skeptical glare.

"Uh, no, you're not. Lucy, just let me take you home."

Home? Which home? Her home? His home? Dare she even think what she already wished for?

( _Their_ home?)

She shook her head of that outrageous thought and tried to focus.

"No, Wyatt. We – We've gotta talk. Now. Here."

"About what?"

She waved her hand between them.

"About this. Us. Or, you know, whatever this is." She tried to scoot around to face him. It was slow going with a mucked up shoulder and slightly blurry vision. She crossed her legs and tried to cross her arms, an attempt to show she meant business, but had to settle with holding the elbow of her injured arm. "Wyatt, you nearly got yourself killed today."

Wyatt faced her, again matching her position, crossing his legs and arms.

It was something they did often, subconsciously mirroring each other. Jiya noticed pretty early on and had pointed it out to them a few years later. They, of course, denied it. But everyone knew. As usual.

" _Me_? You're the one who got hit by a car!"

"I'm fine!"

"You're not fine! You're in pain, Lucy!"

"It's not that bad." She waved him off but winced as she said it, completely invalidating her claim.

Wyatt shook his head and scoffed. He stared at her for a moment, took a deep breath and softened his voice.

"You could've died."

And there it was.

Those few simple words were a dagger to her heart.

"But, I didn't." He dropped his head. She scooted closer beside him. "Wyatt – " She reached for his hand. "I'm still here."

"You know - you promised you weren't going anywhere."

She wasn't sure if he remembered, let alone cared, about that unusual conversation that awkward first night.

Apparently, he did.

She intertwined their fingers. Her head drifted slowly to his shoulder. Her words were getting more slurred by the minute.

"Meant it. Every word."

All she could do was squeeze his hand as her eyes closed.

* * *

She woke to the early morning sunlight that filtered through his bedroom window. There was a peace that washed over her in those moments that she'd never fully be able to explain, even to him. Gone were all her anxieties, fears, worries. No thoughts to any part of her crazy life outside that bedroom, that apartment.

Though she didn't make the connection then, she'd later realize he was the reason her anxiety and fears and worries subsided. His mere presence kept all of her nightmares at bay.

Stretching her legs and arms, but remembering her injured shoulder, she rolled her head to look over at him. She froze.

He was staring at her. And smiling that beautiful half-smile that she loved.

"Morning."

How did his sleep-filled voice get sexier with each morning?

She smiled and rested her arms at her sides.

"Morning."

"Sleep well?"

"Very."

To be honest, she didn't remember anything after their conversation in the changing room. She thought they ran into Rufus and Jiya and had another awkward conversation. She thought Wyatt helped her out to his car. She thought he drove them straight home…errr to _his_ home. His apartment. But she could only imagine how they got inside. Did he carry her again?

One of these days, she'd be awake when Wyatt Logan carried her across a threshold.

"How's your shoulder feel this morning?"

She moved it slightly and, while it still felt sore, it wasn't like before.

"Better, actually. Those pain meds really helped."

He grinned and slightly nodded.

"I also put a heating pad on it last night after we got back."

"You –? Oh. Um. Thank you."

She suddenly felt embarrassed. How could this man be so good to her? What had she ever done to deserve this from him?

"Least I could do. You did save me from being run over."

Oh. That.

She gave him a small smile and rotated on her side to face him, her injured shoulder feeling slight relief from being off the bed.

"You're welcome."

And there they were. Two masters of the unspoken. They both knew, but were so terrified to say it. Not yet. Definitely, not yet.

It's a terrifying thing knowing you want to be with someone but not being able to tell them out of fear you'll lose them. Supposedly, that helps with the eventual heartbreak. Or so someone once told her.

"You're not a distraction."

"What?"

"You. You don't distract me."

Was this _supposed_ to be a compliment? Was she blushing?

"Uh – okay…?"

"You mumble in your sleep. Kept repeating over and over, 'I can't be your distraction.'"

Yep, she was blushing. Her cheeks were hot and she tried to avoid his eyes.

"Oh. Yeah. Been meaning to talk to you about that. I just – I don't want this…us…whatever this is…to get in the way of what we do."

He nodded and scooted closer to her. His voice was a whisper.

"You're not a distraction."

She didn't think he fully understood.

"No, I mean. Yes, you say that now, but yesterday, you'd turned and weren't looking and Flynn's guy came out of nowhere and I had to do something. You could've died and then I would've –"

She gasped. Loudly.

He suddenly kissed her hurt shoulder. He lingered there, his hand running up her arm, electric chills following his gentle fingers as they lightly brushed her skin.

"You're not a distraction."

His voice was softer than a whisper and his breath felt warm against her shoulder.

Pain? What pain? Turned out, Wyatt Logan was the best medicine for anything that ailed her.

Her voice was much shakier than she wished it to be.

"Wyatt…I…"

He placed light kisses along her shoulder, neck, and just behind her ear.

She lost all thought. Everything.

He gently rolled her on her back and cupped her face, staring at her with such awe and reverence and…happiness.

"You're not a distraction."

"Then, what am I?"

He smiled that adorable smile that she definitely found adorable.

She held her breath. Waiting.

"You're what I'm fighting for."

The flutter in her stomach and the pang in her chest returned full force. She shivered as the chills spread through her. Her hand ran along his back, his arm, finally resting on his cheek. Her breaths quickened and tears stung her eyes.

For it was at that moment she realized her home wasn't a house in the suburbs, or a doctor's mansion in the hills, or even a pier on the bay.

No, her home wasn't a place. It never was.

It was always with him.


	8. Chapter 8

"Just take the next right up here."

Her hand slightly shook as she pointed in the direction out the front of the car. _His_ car. He'd insisted on driving her that afternoon. Secretly, she was happy for it. It'd been a pretty emotional day so far.

She grabbed her wrist and held it in her lap, a futile attempt to quell the nervous energy. Her palms were sweaty and her stomach twisted in knots.

It's as if she forgot how to breathe.

 _Deep, deep breath._

She stared out the window as the trees and houses and streetlights zipped past. They blurred together in a kaleidoscopic harmony as her thoughts drifted to earlier that morning.

The game plan had been a simple one. Go in, get some things, say hi to mom (if she's there), and leave. She wanted to have a longer conversation with her mom, but not now. Just…not now.

One problem at a time.

Not that he was a problem. Far from it. But her mind was still sorting, processing. Therefore, it'd be a while before she could deal with her mother.

But she did need to see her mom and talk to her to at least smooth things over. It'd been three days since their fight when she was kicked out of the house. She missed her mom. Missed their talks, her advice, their historical debates.

It was all so stupidly surreal. It'd be so much easier if she could just tell her mother about her time traveling life. About Mason Industries, Noah, Amy…Wyatt.

Well, she'd probably find out about that last one soon enough.

Wyatt reached for her hand, pulling her back to the present.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. I mean, I don't know her, but if she's anything like you, she'll understand. Just give her a chance."

She nodded.

"Yeah. No, I know." She placed her other hand on top of his. "Thank you for coming with me." She glanced up. "Oh, it's that house there."

He pulled to a stop in front of the large residence.

The conversation with her mom could go several ways. But she knew, regardless of how it happened, it _had_ to happen. She'd panicked a few times recently when she realized that things could still change with her mom after a mission. They could come back and her mom could have lung cancer again. Or, the worst scenario, her mom could not be there at all.

Regardless, Lucy didn't want to leave on another mission without speaking to her mom while she had the chance. Wyatt agreed and they both thought now was as good a time as any for him to meet her mom, while there was still the chance for that, too.

Especially since he was going to be a permanent fixture in her life now.

* * *

The kisses had been numerous and their hands wandered over most of each other earlier that morning. But that's as far as things went between them, though it wasn't for lack of wanting.

They knew how one another felt, even if they didn't say it out loud. It was never that easy. It _should_ be but it rarely happened that way, at least in her experience.

But this was _Wyatt_. They'd technically known each other only a short time, but it felt much longer. They trusted each other, believed in each other, and did whatever necessary to protect one another.

She'd never, ever had that in her life before. With anyone.

He'd kissed her like she'd never been kissed before. Passionately but gently, and with such desperation she was sure he'd never let go or, at the very least, come up for air.

If she could physically describe bliss, this was it. The warm sun blanketed them as he tenderly kissed her lips, her cheek, her closed eyes, her forehead. His hands tugged at her shirt hem, his thumb grazing her skin, as if asking permission to continue roaming higher. She returned his caresses with her own, kissing and lingering along his jaw, his neck, and behind his ear.

(That last spot was one she'd remember for later, since he gasped and moaned deeper than she'd ever heard.)

She'd never experienced such happiness with someone.

Which is why she was slightly confused when he rolled away from her and onto his back, tugging her against him. She complied and rested her head on his chest, his strong arm holding her close to him.

They laid there in silence for a long time, each catching their breath.

"We should…take it…slow."

His voice was shaky and unsure. Not the usual confident Wyatt Logan she was used to.

She knew he was right. Of course, he was right. He was still grieving his late wife, and she, well, technically, she had a fiancé.

 _Dang it! Just break up with the guy already._

One problem at a time.

She nodded against his chest.

"Yeah. I- I think so, too."

His hand traced imaginary lines up and down her arm, causing her to shiver and snuggle closer to him. He kissed the top of her head and slowly stroked her hair.

"So…what do you want to do today? We could call Rufus and Jiya and see what they're up to. Maybe hang out later?"

"Um – actually. I…need to get some things at my mom's. Just some clothes and a few other things. And…" Just say it. Say it and get it over with. "…I also need to break up with a fiancé sometime in the near future."

He stilled next to her, his breaths becoming shallow.

"Oh. Yeah. No, that's- those are good plans."

Was that…disappointment? Or jealousy?

"I suppose I also need to go look at some apartments."

He froze.

"What? Why?"

She looked up at him.

"To…live? I need a place to live."

He was indignant.

"I thought –"

"What?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing."

 _Oh no, mister_.

"Wyatt. Tell me."

He took a deep breath and searched everywhere but her eyes before he spoke.

"I just thought…maybe you could stay here."

The world around her stopped. Everything. Stopped.

Was Wyatt Logan asking her to move in with him?

"What?"

She propped herself up on her elbow to get a better look at him.

"Here. Stay here, Lucy."

A chill ran through her. Really, it was all she could've hoped for. All she'd dreamt of, especially lately.

She shook her head, partially in disbelief and also because it was soon. Way too soon.

"Wyatt. I don't- I don't know. I mean, it's one thing to spend a couple of days here, but we're talking about _living_ together. That's-"

"A big deal. I know. But, I've thought about it." He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. "I'll prove it."

He stood and walked to his dresser, opening up the two long top drawers. He turned and motioned for her to take a look.

She skeptically got out of bed and walked to him. There, open before both of them, were two empty drawers.

"Drawers. Drawers?"

She scrunched her brow. He huffed and folded his arms.

"Yes, drawers. I cleaned them out last night while you were drugged."

Realization hit her like that goon's car. But this was much less painful.

No, this was wonderful. She struggled to hold the tears that immediately came to her eyes.

"You- you're giving me drawers. Here. In your apartment."

He smirked, cockily.

"Well, I don't have any drawers anywhere else to give you."

Her mouth opened and closed the way it always did when she was rendered speechless.

"Wyatt."

He smiled.

"Is that a yes? You'll stay?"

She beamed.

"Are you kidding me? Of course!" She lunged at him, throwing her arms around his neck. He smiled and pulled her close, but she suddenly pulled back and looked at him. "But…I don't- I mean, I feel like I should get you something." He eyed her quizzically. "It's just…this is…well, no one's ever given me drawers before. I'm not exactly sure how to reciprocate."

She smiled apologetically.

He'd later tell her how adorable he found her smile to be.

(But not too much later.)

He raised an eyebrow and pulled her closer, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I can think of a few ways you could reciprocate."

She feigned shock and lightly smacked his chest.

"Hey! What happened to taking it slow?"

He nodded and leaned in, their lips barely touching. "Oh, right." Ever so tenderly, and slowly, he kissed her for several seconds. He then pulled back and whispered in her ear, "Is that slow enough for you? Or would you like me to try again?"

She smirked, narrowed her eyes, and lowered her voice.

"I think you should definitely try again."

And that's when she realized two things about Wyatt Logan: He never backed down from a challenge, and when he fought for something, he fought with all his heart.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N:_ _I had intended to post this update earlier this week. However, that season finale had me all kinds of emotions. I wasn't sure how much to include regarding her mom's background. So, I had to take a couple of extra days to figure out how to address that._

 _Also, if you're curious about where this story fits in with season 1, I'm working in the timeframe between Karma Chameleon (1x13), The Lost Generation (1x14), and Public Enemy No. 1 (1x15)._

 _Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and sent lovely messages about this story. One more chapter after this one! Can't wait to share the ending of this story with everyone! I'm super excited for it. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this extra long chapter!_

* * *

They stood awkwardly outside the front door, both unsure of how to proceed.

This door. This stupid front door. How many times had she opened and closed it in her life? How many times did she open it, dreading to see her mom getting sicker, but thrilled to see Amy? How many more times did she, at least in this timeline, open it to Noah? How many for Wyatt? (Just the once, so far.) That door was amazing to slam shut when she was a frustrated teenager or wanted to act like one. She'd had graduation pictures taken in front of it. School pictures. Sister pictures with Amy.

But now? Now, she knocks on it as a guest, a visitor, a stranger. Was this even the same door from her original timeline?

"So…you want to use your key or do we knock?"

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"I- I'm not sure. I guess –"

Shouting from inside interrupted her. She and Wyatt exchanged a worried glance before she grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open.

The voices grew louder as Lucy and Wyatt entered the house and rounded the corner to the kitchen.

"What do you want me to do? She doesn't answer when I call or text anymore."

Lucy hadn't spent much time with the guy, but she did remember his voice.

Noah.

She sighed.

 _This_ guy.

Lucy and Wyatt stopped short in the large kitchen entryway.

"Mom, what's going on? Noah, why are you here?"

Noah turned, indignant.

"Lucy? Where - …Why am I _here_? Because where else would I be when my fiancé disappears for days? Because where would I be when your mother tells me you stormed off several days ago and _she_ hasn't heard from you either?" Noah paused long enough to glare at Wyatt and give him a thorough once over. He looked back at Lucy and motioned in Wyatt's direction. "Is it because of him?"

Lucy felt the blush creep up her neck and cheeks, partly from embarrassment, but mostly from frustration.

Frustration that she hadn't broken up with the guy sooner. Frustration because, in some weird reality, a version of her loved Noah. And she could see that. He was loyal, loving, protective. He certainly had good looks. And he was a doctor. Really, he was a great guy.

But he wasn't Wyatt.

She knew the version of herself who loved Noah would probably have second thoughts if she'd met Wyatt, too.

It was simple. This version of her could, and would, never be in love with Noah.

"Noah." She glanced at Wyatt. Briefly, but she did. "It's not because of him."

Noah scoffed.

"Could've fooled me. In fact, I guess you have." Lucy threw him a quizzical look. "I mean, clearly you're together. How long you been sleeping with him?"

Lucy's eyebrows shot up and her mouth fell open in shock.

"Excuse me?"

Wyatt jumped in.

"Hey! You can't talk to her like that!"

Noah reached for Lucy's arm, but she pulled back.

"She's my fiancé. I can speak to her any way I please. Besides, what do you care? Who are you?"

Lucy looked from Noah to Wyatt. She should've told Noah off right then. But, if she were honest, she kind of wanted to hear that answer herself.

Wyatt huffed and stepped closer, placing himself between Lucy and Noah.

He spoke calmly and confidently.

"I'm the one who's been there for her lately."

Noah moved so that he was inches away from Wyatt's face.

"And I haven't? I've been waiting for her – in _our_ house – while you two shacked up!"

Wyatt scrunched his brow.

Lucy did the same behind him. The confusion was etched across her face.

"That's – wait. What? How did you – Did you follow me?"

She swallowed and held her breath as the realization sunk in.

Noah kept his eyes on Wyatt.

"It doesn't matter."

Wyatt clenched his jaw. And his fists.

"Yes. It does. Have you been following Lucy?"

Noah scoffed and stared at Wyatt.

"What's it to you?"

Wyatt stood taller.

"I oughta punch you right now. But seeing as how this is the first time I've met Mrs. Preston, I'll ask that you and I kindly step outside."

Lucy put her hand on Wyatt's shoulder.

"What? No! Wyatt, you don't –"

Noah smirked.

"Let's go, pretty boy."

Lucy tried to reach for Wyatt but he was quickly on Noah's heels as he walked out the front door. She turned to her mom, who'd been quietly observing the entire scene from the other side of the kitchen island.

"Mom, I-"

Her mom held up a hand, silencing Lucy.

"Lucy, it'll be alright. Noah can take care of himself."

Terrific. But not whom she was concerned about…

"Mom, no, it's- I…oh nevermind."

She turned and ran to the open front door. Her mother slowly followed, her arms crossed against her chest.

Before them, on her mom's front lawn, stood Wyatt and Noah, slowly circling each other.

Noah took a swing at Wyatt, who ducked, popped up and effectively swung just in time to hit Noah square on the jaw. Noah dropped back, holding his cheek, and glared at Wyatt.

"You _hit_ me! You actually hit me!"

Lucy walked out the door and quickly stood behind Wyatt, her mouth agape, and placed her hand on Wyatt's arm.

"Wyatt."

"And I'll do it again if you keep following her."

Noah slightly shook his head and wiped at the blood that was falling from his lip, smearing it across his hand.

"You know, Luce. You stopped kissing me a while ago. Stopped sleeping in our bed. Stopped living with me. I mean, I guess I should've known. Seen it coming." Noah turned his attention back to Wyatt. "I just never expected _you_ to leave me for someone like _him_."

Wyatt reacted. He jerked Noah up by his collar.

"Okay, pal, I think it's time for you to leave."

Noah jerked back and shoved Wyatt.

"Get your hands off me, _pal_."

Lucy stepped between them, placing a hand on each man's chest.

"Hey! Stop! Both of you.

Lucy's mom finally decided to pipe up.

"Okay, Noah, I think you should leave. Now."

Lucy stared in shock at her mother while Wyatt kept his eyes on Noah.

"Mom?"

She could've sworn her mother already considered Noah part of the family, the son she never had. Yet, here she was, asking him to take the loss and go home.

Carol looked at Lucy, a tinge of disappointment and regret across her face.

"No more fighting on my lawn. Noah, you should go." Noah stepped forward to protest, but was quickly silenced. "No, I don't want to hear it. Lucy's fine. She's here. She's okay. You can go. She'll call you later. Won't you, Lucy?"

Well…

She knew she had to finalize it all with that guy. Make him understand. Make him see that she's not who he thinks she is. And that she never will be.

Lucy nodded and looked up at Noah.

"I'll talk to you later." Noah gave her a long look and glanced at Wyatt. "But, uh…here." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the engagement ring, holding it up for him. "You should take this. I can't keep it. I'm sorry."

Noah shook his head.

"No, Lucy. No. I can't."

Lucy took Noah's hand and placed the ring in his palm.

"You have to. It doesn't belong to me anymore."

Noah closed his hand around the ring and dropped his head. He glanced up once more at her, resigned and determined.

"So, him?"

She sighed.

"Goodbye, Noah."

He nodded, stuck the ring in his pocket, turned and quickly walked to his car.

Wyatt put his arm around her and pulled her into him. As his other arm came up around her, she noticed his hand. His knuckles were bloody and swelling.

"Your hand."

He brushed her off.

"It's okay. I've had worse."

Her mom walked up to them. She looked from Lucy to Wyatt.

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

Wyatt sat on the edge of the bathtub in her mom's upstairs master bathroom. Lucy stood in front of him, an array of first aid supplies next to them on the counter.

"This might sting a little."

He held his hand out as she dabbed the alcohol-soaked cotton ball across his knuckles. He smirked and watched her carefully, and ever so gently, clean his hand.

"I thought you didn't like blood."

"I don't." She looked up at him and smiled. "So, please hold still so I don't lose my concentration."

Focus. Cleaning and breathing.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

And repeat.

If there had been more blood, she probably would've fainted. Luckily, he'd washed most of the blood off before she came in the bathroom. So, it was really only the open wounds to be cleaned and bandaged.

He took a deep breath as she placed the gauze around his hand.

"Listen, Lucy. I know this – today…I know it didn't go how you'd planned. But- I'm glad it happened. I'm- it's good to know that you're not, you know, engaged anymore."

She stopped wrapping his hand and looked up at him. Sometimes, she swore time stood still when she looked into those gorgeous baby blue eyes.

It just happened and she couldn't stop it. She lightly laughed and shook her head.

"Yeah, well. It had to happen somehow, I guess. Just – I never thought you'd play such an _active_ role in the breakup of my engagement." He smiled as she finished wrapping his hand, tucking the end of the bandage into itself. Her hand lingered a little longer on his, her thumb lightly tracing lines back and forth across the bandage. "There. All done."

He nodded and slowly stood.

"So, we should grab your stuff and go, then?"

Oh, no. She hadn't told him yet.

"Um, actually… When you were in here getting cleaned up, Mom asked if we'd like to stay for dinner. I may have said yes."

She didn't want to, not really, especially after the events of the afternoon.

But Wyatt did need to get to know her mother. Isn't that how these things worked? The whole "meeting the parents" routine? She wasn't entirely sure, although, apparently, it worked with this timeline's version of herself since Noah and her mom seemed very well-acquainted.

"You _may_ have said yes?"

"Okay, I said yes. But what was I supposed to say?" She lowered her voice. "I don't know if you've picked up on it, but it's very difficult to say no to my mother."

That was really an understatement. It's probably why she rebelled so much as a teenager.

Wyatt sighed. Loudly.

"It's…okay. I mean, we agreed I should get to know her, so…let's get to know her."

* * *

He'd later tell her how much she was like her mom. Not in those negative ways they'd eventually come to know, but in the ways Wyatt loved. They both got excited about history and could explain events and people and places in ways that enraptured all who listened. They also had the same smile, the same mannerisms when they were passionate about a subject, the same defensive arm cross when they argued.

(He'd also later tell her just how much she _wasn't_ like her mom. _Or_ her dad. In fact, he'd often ask her if she was sure she wasn't adopted.)

They all sat around the dining table. The conversation had been surprisingly lively and upbeat throughout most of dinner. Most likely, it was due to no one willing to be the first to discuss Noah and bear the brunt of whatever ramifications that would bring.

Lucy was amazed the evening had gone so smoothly. She'd held her breath a couple of times when her mom had asked Wyatt a question. They'd discussed where they met, his hometown, his military experience. She couldn't believe he was as calm as he appeared.

(Delta Force, he'd remind her later.)

That was, until her mom brought up the elephant in the room.

"So, Wyatt. Exactly what is the plan here? What's going on? What…" Carol waved her hand back and forth between Lucy and Wyatt. "I mean, what are you two?"

Lucy felt flush. Her palms began to sweat and she held her breath.

Wyatt looked to his plate, his hand playing with the handle of his spoon on the table. He took a deep breath.

Lucy interjected.

"Mom. Wyatt, you don't have to answer that."

He nodded slightly and gave a small smile.

"No, I- I do. I should." He looked up at Carol as he, very confidently, spoke. "To tell you the truth, I don't know. But… We're something…I think. I'm not sure what the plan is. All I can tell you is that - I can't be without her." He paused and looked at Lucy, while continuing with his answer. "She's saved me more than she knows."

Lucy's heart was ready to beat out of her chest. Her breathing quickened and she couldn't help the tears that stung her eyes. She reached under the table for his hand, her eyes never leaving his.

She didn't need to say anything. He knew. She knew he did.

He squeezed her hand and smiled.

"Mom, we should get going."

* * *

He'd gone upstairs to get her bags. She'd decided to pack a little more than originally planned, but figured he did give her all that drawer space. It'd be a shame to waste it.

She put her jacket on in the foyer as her mother spoke.

"So. This is what you want."

It wasn't a question. Her mother knew.

Lucy sighed as she lifted her hair from the collar of her jacket.

"Yes. It is. He is."

Her mother slowly nodded and crossed her arms.

"Okay. You know, Lucy. I know when I can sway you and when I can't. This is one of those times I know your mind is made up. But –" Her mom walked closer and put her hands on Lucy's arms. "-Just _promise_ me that you'll be careful."

Oh no. Was this 'the talk?' Didn't they have that when she was in high school?

"Mom. I'm fine. I'll be- fine. He and I are – we're okay."

Her mom shook her head and glanced down, then looked her directly in the eye.

"No. Lucy. You have to be careful now. You've made your choice."

It was rare to see her mom that serious. It unnerved her.

"O – Okay. Mom. I will."

Her mom nodded.

"Good. He seems like a good guy. And…I _want_ to like him." Her mom smiled, which made Lucy laugh. "I mean, he did defend your honor today, so…"

"Ha! Yeah." She took a deep breath and placed her hand on her forehead. "I just can't believe they got in a fight."

They heard Wyatt coming down the stairs. Her mom leaned closer to her and spoke softly.

"The brain may take advice, but not the heart."

Lucy smiled and nodded.

Capote. One of her favorites. And ever appropriate for Wyatt. And herself, if she were honest.

He had one bag slung over his shoulder, a rolling suitcase in one hand and two smaller bags in the other hand. He'd later give her grief about needing so much stuff.

(He'd also throw around the term "high maintenance," which earned him a pretty good smack on the arm, followed by him tickling her and the both of them falling to the couch in fits of giggles. He'd also later tell her how much he loved having all her things at his apartment. And then, "You're not too bad to have here either.")

He stood at the foot of the stairs as she reached for one of the bags.

"Ready to go?"

She nodded.

"Yeah." She turned to her mom and gave her a quick hug. "Bye, mom. We'll talk soon."

"Bye, Lucy." Her mom looked at Wyatt. He held out his hand to her. She took it, shaking it once, then putting her other hand on top of his. "Wyatt. Take care of her."

He gave a small nod and smiled.

"Yes, ma'am." He glanced at Lucy and winked. She rolled her eyes. "What?"

He opened the door and stepped outside. Lucy turned to the door, but spoke over her shoulder.

"Goodnight, mom."

"Goodnight, you two."

The door closed behind them.

Lucy looked up at him and whispered.

"We did it."

He cupped her cheek.

"No, _you_ did it." He kissed her forehead. "Now, let's go home."

She grinned and watched as he walked to his car ( _their_ car?) with all of her luggage in tow.

She always thought the day she moved out of her mom's house would be a sad, terrifying day. She couldn't imagine leaving the security and safety of the walls behind that front door.

That was, until that fateful day when he'd first called her "ma'am." When he buckled her seatbelt. When he held her hand after Lincoln was shot. When he gave her the pep talk she so desperately needed. When he was desperate to get her back after Flynn abducted her. When he held her so tightly after they were finally reunited.

Wyatt Logan had completely challenged her, changed her, and made her want to be a better person when, more often than not, she wanted to throw in the towel and call it a day. But he'd soon tell her she had the same affect on him.

As she watched him load her bags in his car to take to their home, she knew. Even though it'd take just a little while longer for them both to say it out loud, she was ready to admit it to herself.

The pang in her heart and the flutter in her stomach would always be there when she was with him. And she welcomed them with open arms.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: So, here we are. The end of this story. This was an extremely emotional chapter to write, but I've had this ending planned since I finished chapter 2. I'm absolutely in love with Lucy and Wyatt and have loved writing every word of this story. (And yes, I will definitely write more stories about them!)_

 _A couple of notes. There are some time jumps in this chapter. It's a bit like the movie Inception, for there's a flashback within a flashback. Every jump is labeled, so I hope it's clear, but if not, please let me know._

 _Also, the story Lucy tells about Michael Lee and Mary Nihil is 100% true. Google them._

 _I cannot begin to thank all of you enough for your kind words, reviews, messages, etc. If it wasn't for you, this would've been a two-chapter story at most. As it turns out, this is one of my favorite stories I've ever written. (And I've written a lot.)_

 _So, thank you. I hope you enjoy this final chapter. XOXO_

* * *

 _2027 - 10 years later_

She smoothed her dress and checked her lipstick and hair in the passenger visor's mirror. She could feel his eyes on her and smirked.

"Eyes on the road, sweetheart."

It was rare they had a night out just to themselves. They'd had dinner at one of her favorite restaurants in San Francisco. They walked along the pier, sat on their favorite bench and watched the waves break against the rocks. They relished this time together. No worries. No chaos. No time travel.

He smiled wide and reached for her hand.

"I didn't mess it up too bad, did I? And hey, is mine okay?"

He motioned to his hair and turned his attention back to the road. She looked over at him and reached across to smooth a few hairs down on the back of his head.

"That's better. Wow. We made a mess of ourselves tonight, didn't we?"

"You know, we have plenty of time before we need to get back. I can _always_ pull over somewhere else if you want to try to _not_ make a mess…"

He winked. She laughed. Oh, how that thought was incredibly tempting. She'd love nothing more than to spend another half hour making out with her husband on a back road in the dark. Visions of fogged windows, roaming hands, and clothes flying; kisses and moans and never wanting to let go.

But they had to get back. They allowed themselves this time once a month, a small break for just the two of them, if even for a few hours. It was much needed and those in their life understood it.

He turned onto the quiet tree-lined street and stopped in front of the craftsman style house. He cut the engine, rested his head against the back of the seat and looked at her. She smiled and leaned over, placing her hand on his cheek. He instantly closed his eyes. (And her heart swelled.)

"Back to life."

"Do we have to?"

She glanced out the window to the house.

"Light's still on. Think they're all still up?"

He sighed and placed his hand over hers on his cheek. He kissed the palm of her hand.

"Let's go find out."

They got out of the car. Lucy walked around to the driver's side and Wyatt took her hand in his, interlacing their fingers. She leaned into him and smiled wide as they walked up the sidewalk to the front porch. That's when they first heard it.

Voices rang out from inside. Lucy looked up at Wyatt and raised her eyebrows.

"Uh oh. Which adventure is it tonight?"

He stopped at the door and turned his head to better listen to the conversation on the other side.

"I think…it's a toss up. Between Bond and when we got engaged." He paused and leaned in closer. "No, wait. I think Bond won." He grinned. That was always his favorite.

Lucy shook her head, smiled and crossed her arms.

"Bond was pretty great." Wyatt groaned. "But – I like the proposal story better."

* * *

 _2018 - 9 Years Ago_

"Excuse me, ma'am, is this seat taken?"

She knew that "ma'am" anywhere. It was the only one she liked to hear.

"Is that a chocolate crepe in your hand? Or are you just happy to see me?"

He smiled.

"Yes."

She scooted over on the bench, giving him his usual spot to sit. This had become their routine every weekend. They didn't just need a routine; they craved it. It'd been almost two years without one. She'd told him about this place not long after her mother revealed her true colors, her true identity. That was also around the same time Noah revealed himself to be just as deceiving.

They ate their crepes in their usual comfortable silence. He draped his arm around her back. They'd been living together almost a year. A year since so much changed their lives.

* * *

 _2017 – 10 years ago_

Wyatt had invited Rufus and Jiya over the day after Lucy officially moved out of her mother's house. He didn't tell them why, but just said they needed to come over to see something. When they arrived, Wyatt led them into the bedroom where Lucy was waiting, the two top drawers of Wyatt's (no, _their_ ) dresser open. This time, however, the drawers weren't empty. Several of Lucy's shirts and socks were neatly folded and on display.

Rufus looked skeptically from Wyatt to Lucy.

"Um, what's…going on? Why are Lucy's clothes in your drawers?"

Jiya gasped and ran to Lucy, throwing her arms around her.

"I _knew_ it! Oh gosh, I'm so happy for you guys!"

Lucy smiled and hugged Jiya tightly.

Wyatt grinned but dropped it a bit when he saw Rufus's face.

"Rufus?" Wyatt took a small step closer to him. "Are you…okay? With this, I mean?"

Rufus's expression turned from shock to sudden elation.

"Okay? Guys, do you know what this _means_?" Lucy and Wyatt shared a concerned look. "We're totally just like Star Wars! You're Han and Leia, which makes me Luke! I'm freakin' Luke Skywalker! This is _awesome!_ "

Jiya smiled, but closed her eyes and shook her head. Lucy laughed and conceded his point. Wyatt and Rufus high-fived.

The four were inseparable from that point on.

* * *

 _Back to 2018 –_

The wind blew her hair as they sat on the pier. She shivered slightly and he pulled her closer to him. It was always natural the way her head rested on his shoulder. She wiped the powdered sugar from the crepe off the corners of her mouth, licking it off her thumb and savoring the sweet flavor.

He nudged her.

"Tell me the story again."

She smiled. She'd told him lots of stories here on this bench over the last year. The stories her mother told her and Amy back so many years, and lifetimes, ago. Tales of the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz, the 1906 earthquake and subsequent fire, and so many more.

"Which one?"

"You know the one. After the earthquake."

"Michael and Mary?"

"That's the one." He leaned down, pulled her hair away from her ear, and whispered. "Tell me."

She knew he always liked something about that story. Part of her was certain it brought up memories of Jessica somehow. But he'd often ask to hear it and that day seemed no different. He'd heard it so much, she was sure he could tell her the story now.

She cleared her throat and snuggled a little closer to him.

"Michael Lee came to San Francisco from Ireland about 1898. Mary Nihil, also from Ireland, came over a year later in 1899. They met here in San Francisco, two Irish newcomers trying to make new lives in a new country. He got a job, ironically, for the U.S. Customs department. They had gotten engaged and were to be married on Wednesday, April 18th, 1906. But, at 5:12AM on the morning of April 18th, a catastrophic earthquake rocked the city. It was the worst natural disaster in California history. Over 3,000 people were killed from the earthquake or the fires that ravaged the city for days afterward. But Michael and Mary, being so in love and without any family, decided to get married that morning anyway. So, after the initial earthquake early that morning, they rushed to the Star of the Sea church and were married. A newspaper interviewed them later and Mary said, 'We just felt we could face the future better if we were together.' So, they married in spite of the disaster and were together for over fifty years."

Wyatt pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

"We should all be so lucky." There was a long pause and she took his hand and squeezed it. "I'm tired of saying goodbye to you, Luce." She froze and glanced up at him. "Every time we go on a mission, something could happen. Every time we're not together. Every time one of us is threatened. I just –" He moved his arm from around her shoulder, causing her to sit up straight. "I'm tired of saying goodbye."

She placed her hand on his cheek and smiled softly.

"So, don't."

He reached in his pocket and pulled out the ring, twirling it nervously between his thumb and index finger. Lucy gasped. Tears stung her eyes.

She knew it was coming. She hoped it anyway. Her life, in any timeline, any universe, any reality, simply didn't make sense without Wyatt. She knew that now. She'd always know that.

He scooted off the bench and lowered to one knee.

"Lucy, I never expected you. We were thrown together in unimaginable ways that absolutely no one else could ever understand. And a lesser person would've thrown in the towel after that first mission. But you, Lucy, you're tenacious and irritable and stubborn and, let's face it, a bit of a klutz." She smacked him lightly on his arm, but laughed, causing him to smile wide. "But you're also kind, intelligent, loving, beautiful. And you have such a good heart. I love your heart. I know I don't deserve you, but I just need you to know-" He paused to swallow and fight the tears now threatening his eyes. Lucy didn't try to stop hers. "You're- You have saved my life a hundred times over. And I don't know what the future holds, but I do know we lead crazy lives. And I can't think of anyone else I want by my side." He smiled that lovely half-smile. "I know we can face the future better if we're together."

She smiled, let the tears continue to fall, and dropped off the bench to kneel next to him on the ground. Her voice was a whisper as she took his face in her hands.

"I will always fight for you. I will always need you. I will always be by your side." Her thumb wiped one of his tears. She whispered only for him. "I love you, Wyatt Logan."

He smiled, unsure but hopeful.

"So, that's a yes?"

She smiled wide and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"That's a yes."

He cupped her face and enthusiastically kissed her. He pulled away but leaned his forehead against hers. His voice was soft, reverent, sincere.

"I love you, Lucy Preston."

They both stood and he pulled her into another long, tender, slow kiss. The wind blew her hair and he immediately pulled her closer, not giving her a chance to shiver.

They were married three days later in the company of close friends, their best man Rufus and matron of honor Jiya. Her grandfather Ethan gave her away.

Lucy and Wyatt hadn't left each other's side since that day.

* * *

 _Back to Present – 2027_

Lucy stepped over to the window next to the door and peeped inside. She motioned for Wyatt to come closer to her. She lowered her voice.

"You can hear better over here. Can see them, too."

They both peeped through the window at the scene in their living room.

On the floor in front of the fireplace, sat Rufus and Jiya, both using grand gestures and facial expressions as they spoke to the small children before them. They all sat amidst pillows and blankets, listening intently to Rufus and Jiya, as the firelight danced against the walls.

"Rufus really gets into it, huh?"

Lucy smiled.

"Jiya, too."

Wyatt leaned against the window frame and watched Lucy. She knew he was watching her, but she just couldn't take her eyes off their kids.

* * *

Amy, Lucy and Wyatt's oldest at nine, sat in between her brother and sister. Amy looked like her namesake. Ethan was almost six now and every bit a miniature Wyatt. Then, there was little Denise, the youngest at three. As much as Ethan was like Wyatt, so Denise was exactly like Lucy.

Jiya began to pick up the pillows when Amy shouted out.

"Wait, I want to hear the one about the Hindenburg!"

Jiya ruffled Amy's hair.

"You've heard that one like a million times! I bet you could tell it to _us_ now!"

Ethan piped up.

"That one's lame, Amy. I wanna hear the one where dad got shot and Uncle Ruf had to pull out the bullet 'cause mom was too grossed out!"

Rufus made a face.

"Uh, yeah. That's okay, buddy. Maybe another time. And maybe someone else can tell it."

Amy interjected.

"Just one more story! Please? How about the one where mom and dad really fell in love?"

Ethan wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue.

"Ewwww, no! Come on, tell the one with James Bond!"

Denise took her thumb out of her mouth long enough to add her suggestion.

"I like the one where momma fell off the horse!"

Jiya rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Guys, it's close to bedtime and we promised to have everyone actually _in_ a bed when your parents got home. Besides," she lowered her voice and glanced at her and Rufus's two smaller kids asleep on the couch, "our kids are already out."

Amy and Ethan both shared a resigned, "Awww."

Rufus cocked his head in confusion and looked at Jiya.

"Wait a minute. Do _you_ know that story?"

"The one where she fell off the horse? Uh, yeah, we _all_ know that story. That's one of Wyatt's favorites."

Rufus shook his head.

"No, no, no. Not that one. The one where they fell in love?"

Jiya nodded.

"Oh yeah, Bonnie and Clyde."

* * *

Outside, Wyatt and Lucy shared a quick glance and grin. He reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

* * *

Rufus scrunched up his nose.

"That's not when they fell in love."

"Uh, yeah it is. That was their first kiss."

"A first kiss doesn't mean falling in love."

Jiya put her hands on her hips.

"No, but it can awaken _feelings_." Rufus rolled his eyes. "Okay, then, when do _you_ think they fell in love?"

"Benedict Arnold."

Jiya's mouth fell open.

"What? No way. Lucy was definitely _not_ in love with Wyatt then."

* * *

Wyatt looked at Lucy and raised his eyebrows. Lucy shrugged and gave him a smirk.

* * *

Rufus turned his full attention to Jiya.

"So, when do you _really_ think they fell for each other?"

Jiya sat on the floor, unconsciously pulling a sleepy Denise into her arms.

"Probably…somewhere after Paris. She was definitely feeling something when you two went back to the 80s though. But fell in love? _Both_ of them?"

Amy piped up.

"But, I thought mom and dad were together from the very beginning?"

Jiya shook her head.

"Not at first. Your dad – he- well, he was sad for a while when he and your mom first met."

Ethan spoke up.

"About losing Aunt Jessica?"

Jiya's heartbreak was written on her face.

* * *

Lucy's heart broke in a million pieces. She glanced up at Wyatt. He clenched his jaw and gave her a small smile. He'd long ago laid Jessica to rest, but the kids had seen pictures and wanted to know. So, they'd told them. And, from then on, they'd all accepted "Aunt Jessica" into their lives.

* * *

"Yes, Aunt Jessica. But after a while, he and your mom became really close and they eventually fell in love."

Rufus narrowed his eyes.

"Hmm…should we go to the source?"

Jiya nodded.

"I think this calls for it."

Rufus stood and walked to the nearby bookshelf. He reached for the small black leather bound journal and held it up to show everyone.

"Guess what, guys? It's story time!"

Ethan and Amy, and a very sleepy Denise, all shouted at once.

"Yay! James Bond! James Bond!"

"Yes!"

"Horsey!"

* * *

Lucy took a deep breath. That journal had originally caused so much heartache in her life. In all of their lives. But she eventually found a way to change it.

Instead of writing down only the missions, she decided to focus on each of them. So, rather than creating a mission journal, it became more of an adventure book. Wyatt was the one who'd actually suggested it.

She felt Wyatt's arm wrap around her waist. He pulled her a little closer and whispered softly.

"I think it's time we go inside."

* * *

Rufus walked over to the fireplace and sat just as the front door opened and Lucy and Wyatt walked in. Lucy gave them both a small wave. The kids never took their eyes off the journal, except for Denise, who was fast asleep in Jiya's arms as she sat on the floor next to Rufus.

Lucy took off her cardigan as she spoke and smiled at the scene before them.

"Don't mind us."

She and Wyatt sat on the floor in front of the sofa, careful not to disturb any of the children.

Rufus nodded and looked back to Ethan and Amy.

"Okay, so what were we looking up?"

Wyatt smirked.

"I think you wanted to know when Lucy and I got together."

Rufus feigned shock and confusion.

"What? Oh- uh. No. _Jiya_ wanted to know."

Jiya smacked him on his arm.

" _You_ were the one who brought it up!"

"No way!" Rufus turned his attention to the kids. "Actually. It was Amy."

Amy shrugged.

"I _did_ ask but, apparently, no one knows."

Jiya cocked her head.

"Well, I think _some_ people know. But they probably want to keep it to themselves."

Lucy and Wyatt both grinned. She reached for his hand and held it in her lap, looking at him as she spoke.

"I think that's probably right."

Rufus cleared his throat.

"Okay, then. Another story?"

Wyatt chimed in.

"But a short one. These guys have _got_ to get to bed."

Rufus's mouth fell open. He held up the journal and pointed to the front cover.

"Does this say 'Journal of Short Adventure Stories'? No, it does not. It says 'The Time Team – The Adventures of Rufus, Lucy and Wyatt.' I was there for most of these. There are no short stories in here."

Ethan turned around to Lucy and Wyatt.

"Please, momma! I wanna hear another story!"

Amy agreed with her brother, a rarity.

"Yeah, please? Just one more. Then we'll go to bed. Promise!"

Lucy and Wyatt shared a resigned look. Lucy called it this time.

"Fine. _One_ story. But, remember, Rufus. G-rated, please."

"So, basically like C-3PO when he's telling Luke, Han, and Leia's story to the Ewoks. Got it."

Wyatt laughed and shook his head.

"Yes, exactly."

Rufus thought for a moment.

"So, which one? Which…one…? Oh! I know! Did you ever hear about the time your dad got jealous because James Bond was hitting on your mom?"

Wyatt rolled his eyes. Jiya grinned. Lucy blushed and hid her head in her hands.

Rufus spent the next half hour recalling tales of working with James Bond, Lucy's ability to fall off things, and Wyatt's toughness, which earned a huge "Yeah!" from Ethan.

By the end of story time, most everyone was sleepy. Lucy patted Wyatt's leg.

"Come on, let's get these kids to bed."

They both stood. Lucy walked to Jiya and took a sleeping Denise from her arms. Rufus then gave Jiya a hand, helping her off the floor. Wyatt ushered Ethan and Amy upstairs.

"Come on, you two. Bedtime. Brush teeth, pajamas on. Mom and I will be up in a few minutes."

Jiya and Rufus each picked up one of their kids off the couch. Mason and Josephine (Josie for short) were twins, a year younger than Denise. Jiya wasn't sure she could even have children and they did have a difficult time for a while. Another side effect of time travel. But when they found out it was twins, Rufus was over the moon. He went straight to Wyatt and Lucy's house and told them as soon as he and Jiya left the doctor's office, but then broke down crying in their living room. Happy tears, he'd confess. A relief.

Lucy and Wyatt's kids had already accepted Rufus and Jiya as honorary uncle and aunt. And Rufus and Jiya adored Lucy and Wyatt's kids. But…it wasn't the same. Jiya had told Lucy this on a few occasions, so they were all aware of how much it meant to them to have children. Jiya said it best, "Sometimes, you never know you want something until you're told you can't have it." Lucy assured her she knew that all too well.

Jiya picked up the kids' bag and walked to the door. Everyone spoke in hushed tones. Wyatt clapped Rufus on the back.

"See you later, Rufus. Thanks again for watching them."

Lucy adjusted Denise in her arms and stood next to Wyatt. She and Jiya leaned in and gave quick kisses on each other's cheeks.

"Yeah, thank you. Really, I hope you guys know how much we appreciate this."

Jiya smiled compassionately.

"Believe me. We know." Wyatt opened the door for them. "We're happy to do it anytime."

Wyatt nodded.

"Same here."

Lucy waved.

"Night, guys. Drive safe."

Wyatt closed the door and turned to Lucy.

"You take care of her and I'll get the other two. Meet you down here in our room in fifteen?"

Lucy lightly laughed.

"Deal."

* * *

She'd cleaned and changed Denise, all without managing to wake her. (Still a success, even with the third child.) She checked on Ethan and Amy, but both were already fast asleep. She walked back downstairs to their bedroom but stopped short when she met Wyatt in the hallway, just outside their room. He'd already changed into a white t-shirt and his favorite blue flannel pants. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed against that beautiful muscular chest. His gorgeous bare feet crossed, too.

"I thought I was meeting you in there?"

He smirked and shrugged.

"Changed my mind. Thought I'd meet you out here first."

She knew where this was going. This was how they had three kids.

She giggled as he picked her up and carried her across the threshold into their bedroom, laying her gently on the bed, kissing her tenderly, softly.

"Wait, I need to change."

He rolled his eyes, smiled, and winked.

"No need."

 _No need, indeed._

* * *

The kisses didn't stop that night. Their clothes were scattered all over. (It'd be two days before they found her bra.)

But as she woke early the next morning, the sunlight in their bedroom filtering through the windows, their legs and arms tangled in a mess of sheets, she knew.

Really, she'd always known.

She'd fallen in love with him all over again.

He was awake when she turned her head to look at him. She instantly snuggled closer, deeper in his embrace. Their faces were inches apart.

He still smelled like heaven.

"Morning, babydoll."

She smiled wide. His voice still gave her chills and curled her toes.

"Morning, sweetheart."

He kissed her, softly at first, but his hand on her back pulled her closer. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers.

"I love you."

It had become their tradition. They said it every morning as soon as they woke and every night before falling asleep.

Just in case.

But, no matter how often they said it, the pang in her heart and flutter in her stomach never went away.

She pulled her bare leg up and around his (also) bare legs, hitching him closer to her.

"I love you."

They laid there in the warm sunlight, a tangled mess of arms, legs, sheets. They held each other so tightly, neither wanting to be the first to let go.

However, a scream from upstairs, followed by a very loud "Mom!" brought them both back to reality. They looked at each other and shared a resigned sigh.

"And it starts."

"Back to life."

He closed his eyes and gave her that adorable half-smile that she would forever find adorable.

"Sometimes, I think time travel was easier."

She laughed.

"But I wouldn't trade this for anything."

He kissed her once more.

"Me either."

And as they slowly rolled away from each other, both prepared to get up and take care of their ever-growing family, she realized something.

All of her life, she'd been searching for something. Approval, acceptance, knowledge. Home, love, family. In fact, she'd been searching for so long that when she finally found what she was looking for, it took longer than it should have for her to recognize it.

In Wyatt Logan she not only found a wonderful husband and father, but a home, a family, and unwavering love. She found her best friend, lover, soulmate.

He'd already told her, on more than one occasion, that she was all of those things and more to him, too.

For when they finally decided to face the future together, they realized they could do anything.


End file.
